


Lacrimas Nox

by RedFox13



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I
Genre: Angst, Dark, Depression, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFox13/pseuds/RedFox13
Summary: This story is a bit darker than what I usually write. There is self harm in this story, so consider this a warning. It may not be for everyone.
Relationships: Lord Gwyn's Firstborn/Dragon Slayer Ornstein
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Lacrimas Nox

He swore he wouldn't do it again, last time he went to deep and nicked a vein. Yet here he was giving in to dark temptation, lulled into a haze by far too much wine, locked away and hidden from prying eyes. The moonlight shown blue through the windows of his room. The dagger in his hand glistened like silver as the cool steel traced across his tender, pale, flesh leaving trails of ruby red drops in its wake.

The pain granted him sweet catharsis from his troubled mind and heart. He was a master of illusion, the beautiful moon goddess. Behind his golden mask no one could see his broken smile. He often asked himself if he was meant to be this way, a shadow of the sun forever chasing its golden light. Or was it a cruel twist of fate? Was he damned to lurk in darkness because he was a mistake, or did destiny have something lying in wait? 

He never heard the knocking on his door. He watched glassy eyed as large droplets fell from his wrist and splattered onto his pearly white gown. His face bore a sullen frown as he idly wished for more wine so his sorrows would drown. A flash of gold suddenly appeared at his side and the knife vanished from his hands. He heard a voice, but their words didn't make sense. He was floating in a colorful daze, unattached from reality. The world around him shifted at a dizzying pace, was he moving? Or was he still in place? Why was he even here?

There it was again, that voice. Why did they sound so panicked? Why should they be concerned about him? Another voice pulled him from his thoughts, his voice was deep and warm. Yet why did it sound as if he was distraught? Something warm and soft came up and enveloped him. The gentle heat of the sun slowly flooded his being, he gave a contented sigh as the soothing warmth and light carried him into the darkness of sleep.

.......................

Gwyndolin groaned softly as he slowly woke. The scent of wine hung heavily in the air around him making his stomach churn. He willed his eyes to open but shut them again as the harsh light made his head throb. The churning in his stomach intensified, the sudden taste of bile in his mouth told him he was about to throw up. But gladly nothing came after a few minutes.

A while later he opened his eyes again, squinting up at the ceiling. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his room, the next was that his arms were covered in bandages. Lastly his brother was kneeling by his bedside, he appeared to have fallen asleep there as he laid his head on the mattress. Ornstein was sitting in a chair on his other side, his helmet sat on the floor beside him. His tired eyes fixed on him in a sorrowful way. "Gwyndolin? How are you feeling?" He asked softly.

Terrible, I think I got drunk last night at the dinner party. I remember going to my room..." His voice trailed off as he tried to piece together his foggy memories. "Gwyndolin..." Ornstein sounded heartbroken. Moving from his chair he knelt next to him. A pair of cold hands gently grasped one of his own. "I'm so sorry.... It was my duty to protect you, but I failed... I had no idea you were hurting so badly." He took a breath as he fought back his tears. Gwyndolin felt his stomach churning with guilt. "It's okay to ask for help, you never needed to suffer in silence. You shouldn't have had to resort to hurting yourself to feel better. You could've came to us, we would've understood."

He stopped as he looked over. Farram had woken up and was watching Gwyndolin. He made no attempt to hide his tears, slowly he took his other hand. "How long had this been going on?" His voice came out as a cracked whisper. "A long time. Brother, I'm sorry. You shouldn't trouble yourself over me..." Gwyndolin said quietly. "I worry because I love you. We love you. You're our little moon child. You're intelligent and kind, you're the best brother anyone could ask for." He stopped for a moment as he looked away.

"Honestly though, I'm not surprised you would do something so cruel to yourself." As he said this he removed the golden bangles from his arms. Gwyndolin's eyes widened as he saw the faded scars on his wrists.

"I've been where you are." He said quietly.

Gwyndolin suddenly felt tears welling up. He felt horrible for letting his dark thoughts get to him, and even worse for worrying his family. As he begun to sob his brother stood and climbed onto the bed, he pulled him into a gentle embrace as he buried his head into his chest. Ornstein followed suit, putting a protective arm around him from the other side. They remained silent as they held him and tried their best to comfort him.

"Brother? Do you have a bucket? I'm going to be sick..." Gwyndolin groaned. Ornstein and Farram scrambled up from the bed to grab a bucket. Farram quietly made a mental note to discuss how hangovers work with Gwyndolin when he got better.


End file.
